


Pity The Living

by acme146



Series: Fading Scars [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Mental Illness, Neville's parents, Therapy, Trauma, therapy animals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-26 09:33:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9883337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acme146/pseuds/acme146
Summary: On the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts, a student comes to Neville to offer some help. Neville ends up returning the favour.





	

**Author's Note:**

> “Time heals all wounds. But not this one. Not yet.”  
> ― Marie Lu, Champion

“Excuse me, Professor Longbottom?”

                Neville looked up from the Flutterby Bush he was tending to see Ellie McEvoy. A third year, the young Ravenclaw was one of his more perplexing students. As a teacher, he tried to know the more important things going on in his students’ lives—he’d learned the hard way how easily a child could be hurt by careless talk. Ellie, on the other hand, seemed happy, even normal by Hogwarts standards. A fullblooded witch with kind, attentive parents (judging by the amount of owls) and brilliant grades and friends,  she had every right to be.

                And yet…

                “Hello Ellie, what are you doing here?”

                It was May 2nd, after all. Classes were cancelled that day, and while there was no official memorial services students were encouraged to spend some time reflecting on the Battle of Hogwarts. Or study more, Neville wasn’t particularly fussed about it. He himself spent May 2nd working until the night, when he and several of the D.A. survivors joined him and Hannah at the Leaky Cauldron to toast the fallen. It wasn’t completely traditional, but that’s what he did.

                Ellie twisted her blue tie nervously. “I just wanted to…to stop by and offer my sympathies.”

                “For what, exactly?” Neville asked, bemused.

                “For your parents.”

                Neville put down his shears, closing his eyes. When he opened them Ellie looked sad.

                “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “It’s just…no one really talks about them, and I know they were heroes, because  we’ve learned about the original Order, and I know that you must be sad today…”

                 Neville took a deep breath.

                “I’m sorry Professor. I’ll just…go…”

                “No, Ellie, it’s alright.” Neville conjured a chair and motioned her towards it. He sat down on his stool, lowering it so he and Ellie were face to face. “What exactly do you think happened to my parents?”

                “Well…they’re dead, aren’t they?” Ellie’s eyes were bright with sympathy. “That awful Bellatrix Lestrange killed them, because they wouldn’t give her any information. They were wonderfully brave sir, like you.”

                Neville couldn’t help the smile. Even with what Professor McGonagall had told him yesterday, he still had a hard time thinking of himself as brave. But there was something that needed to be corrected.

                “Ellie, my parents aren’t dead.”

                “They’re…they’re not?”

                “No.” Neville swallowed. “Bellatrix Lestrange did torture my parents for information.  She and a few other Death Eaters attacked them quite soon after Voldemort fell the first time.” Neville was absurdly proud of Ellie’s lack of reaction to Voldemort’s name. “My parents were very brave, and they never gave up any information. But the Cruciatus Curse—it doesn’t kill, you see. However it can, if used long enough, cause insanity.”

                Ellie’s eyes were wide with horror.

                “They live at St. Mungo’s,” Neville said quietly. “I’ve asked about bringing them home to Hannah and I, but they do need constant supervision and they are…they’re getting older, and their illness is making that worse.” His mother hadn’t left her bed in three years, and his father was having vision problems.

                Ellie put her hands over her mouth.

                “I’m sorry,” Neville said as gently as he could. “I just didn’t want you to have the wrong idea. In some ways I’m very lucky; I can still see them, I can still talk to them.” There were so many war orphans, from both wars…it felt wrong to take attention away from them.

                “Do they know who you are?”

                Neville swallowed. “I think so. I—I hope so.”

                Ellie didn’t speak for a minute. Neville wanted desperately to pick up his shears, continue working, and let the girl escape. She’d been sweet, really, seeking him out today, and he didn’t want to repay that with such an awkward chat.

                “Could they ever be cured?”

                “No,” Neville said, and it hurt, it hurt more than telling how they’d become the way they were. “St. Mungo’s does wonderful work with people who have mental conditions, but there are some wounds that cannot be healed.”

                Ellie blinked hard. “I thought magic could fix everything.”

                Neville reached out and put his hand on hers. “I wish it could, but everything’s got rules, Ellie, and sometimes they need to be kept.”

                Ellie ducked her head for a moment. “St. Mungo’s…does it hurt, what they do to cure people?”

                Neville raised his eyebrows. “Not from what I understand. I’ve been involved with that part of the hospital for several years now, talking to Healers and doing what I can to help. They’ve got different ways of treating people depending on what they need, but I don’t think anyone’s been hurt.” _Not that I’d let that go on if it was happening._

Ellie fidgeted. Neville leaned forward. “What is it, Ellie?”

                And then it all came rushing out.

                “My little brother—he’s been odd for a long time, my Mum and Dad thought he’d grow out of it—he’s really sweet, he’d never hurt anyone, but something’s funny with his magic—he’s almost nine, and Mum and Dad don’t know what to do and they think he might be crazy but no one can help—”

                Ellie was gasping. Alarmed, Neville gripped her shoulder. “Alright Ellie, breathe, nice and slow.”

                It took a few tries, but Ellie did calm down.

                “Ellie,” Neville asked carefully, “have your parents…have they spoken to a Healer?”

                Ellie shook her head. “They’re frightened that he might have to be shut up.”

                Neville took a deep breath. “Can I write to your parents?”

                Ellie stared at him.

                “Your brother needs help, Ellie, and if your parents can’t give it to him…I know it must be scary, but there might be something Healers can do for him.”

                “But what if—”

                “If he truly does need to be in a hospital? Ellie, it’s not that bad there, I promise. It was a gloomy place there long ago, but it’s changed, honestly. And it is much better knowing now; if it is something to do with his magic, it’s only going to get worse.”

                Ellie looked at him, eyes bright with hope. “Do you really think Danny could get better?”

                “I think there’s a chance,” Neville said gently. “And either way, you’ll all know, and then you can do what’s best for Danny.”

                Ellie threw her arms around his neck. Startled, Neville patted her back. “I’ll write to your parents first thing tomorrow,” he promised as Ellie drew back.

                He had an extra stop to make that night, to a cheerful hospital ward with two old people who recognized him enough to give him sweets, but not call him by name.

                That was enough.

**********************************************

                Two years later Neville watched as “McEvoy, Daniel!” was sorted into Ravenclaw, clutching an enormous tabby. The boy was small and still a bit nervous, but the cat calmed him, and so long as it was in the room with him he did brilliantly in all his classes (the cat did enjoy eating the Flutterby Bushes, but Neville learned to keep them out of reach).

                The cat was very friendly and sweet, and Danny explained very seriously to Neville that he named her after the lady that always smiled at him when he spent a day or two in hospital for treatment.

                The cat’s name was Alice.

**Author's Note:**

> I've created tags for Ellie and Danny because they'll be showing up in later stories. I also want to announce that if anyone notices any tags I'm missing (at any point) for squicks, triggers, whatever the reason may be, please comment and/or email me (acme146@gmail.com). I will not judge or ask any questions. I just want to make sure everyone feels comfortable.  
> Cheers,  
> Acme


End file.
